


Tumblr Prompts Collection (Amerihawk)

by shatteredhourglass



Series: SHG's Tumblr Fics [1]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-12-27 15:41:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21121205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredhourglass/pseuds/shatteredhourglass
Summary: A series of Amerihawk drabbles originally posted on Tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: Arranged Marriage + Outsider POV (Bucky)

“_Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers…_”

Marrying Steve Rogers is the right thing to do. 

Bucky knows this, logically. The Barnes and Rogers family promised them to each other at Steve’s birth, for a number of reasons that were all very valid and important and _reasonable_. This wedding was planned twenty six years ago and it’s a miracle that it hadn’t happened earlier. 

It’s not like Bucky had ever hated the idea of marrying Steve. Steve’s his best friend, his platonic soulmate, and if he’s honest he could do a whole lot worse. It’s not like he’s interested in anyone _that way_, never has been, so this situation was convenient for him. 

Natasha’s pinned a little red flower to Steve’s suit and it emphasizes how blue his eyes are, especially with the black of his suit. He’s been looking at Steve’s face for most of his life and that’s why he can see past the smile, see the flicker of resignation, of dismay in his expression. 

“_Steven, do you take James as your lawfully wedded husband, to love and cherish always?_”

“I do,” Steve says, but it’s bland, robotic. His eyes don’t move an inch from Bucky’s face but Bucky can _tell _he wants to look away.

Bucky doesn’t really believe in or want love for himself.

Thing is, he believes in love for Steve. He’s watched, these last few months, two blond idiots filled with too much fight for one person. Bucky’s witnessed blatant flirting and even more blatant pining, gone looking for one only to find them sitting together on a wall watching the sunset or rolling around in the grass. 

He knows Steve’s got an arrow hidden away from the first time he’d accidentally startled Bucky’s new bodyguard. Steve had been climbing into Bucky’s window to complain about something or other and he’d ended up with his shirt pinned to the wall, eyes wide at the new guy in a truly horrifying shade of purple.

“_And James, do you also promise to love and cherish Steven?_”

“I can’t,” Bucky blurts, because there’s a million reasons to go along with this but none of them are good enough. He doesn’t apologize. “I can’t marry you, Steve, I can’t.”

There’s a couple of scandalized gasps, mostly from Bucky’s side of the family. (Becca just snorts and he _knows _it’s her, the little shit. Ma’s going to kick her.) 

The priest seems reasonably puzzled, looks at him. “Would you like to tell us why?”

“Easy. He’s not in love with _me,_” Bucky says, takes a step back and reaches out with his right hand. His fingers come into contact with Kevlar and what feels like a gun holster and he pulls. 

“Bucky,” Steve hisses, but the light’s back in his eyes. Bucky grins as Clint stumbles forward, messy hair and about forty weapons strapped to his body.

“Time to be honest, Rogers,” Bucky says.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Green-eyed Epiphany + Innocent Physical Contact

“Okay, interview is starting in ten.”

“I’m not sure about this,” Steve admits. 

He looks uncomfortable. So _very_ uncomfortable, and it had only gotten worse when the crew had insisted that he wear the wardrobe that their team had picked out. The shirt’s not bad - Clint’s not a fan of loud patterns, but they did a good job of highlighting every muscle on Steve’s body. 

“You should do this instead,” Steve says. “You’re more natural in front of a camera. I hate this whole production thing. I’ve hated it since the forties.”

Clint snorts, leans up against the wall. “They want Captain America, not Hawkeye. ‘m just here to steal the dogs.”

Steve grins at him, the first time he’s looked _okay_ since they got here, and Clint looks away, ignores the weird twist in his stomach. There’s a yip from a crate and Clint zeroes in on that instead, catches a glimpse of a black nose and pink tongue. Oh yeah, that’s why he’d chosen to come along to Steve’s fancy interview thing. 

“Alright, release the puppies,” a woman says, and they start opening the crates. 

The tiny border collies immediately swarm Steve, walking on his outstretched legs and jumping up to lick at his cheeks. Steve laughs and makes absolutely zero attempts to push them down. Clint feels the jealousy push at his chest and ignores it, keeps watching Steve pet at them as softly as he can. The woman starts asking her questions and Clint sits back in the shadows behind the cameras, folds his arms. 

Of course he’s jealous, Steve’s got dogs in his lap. 

It’s not at all because Clint wants Steve to be paying attention to _him_ instead of the puppies.That’d be dumb. He watches Steve curl a hand around the smallest of the group, hold it against his chest gently. Steve presses a kiss to the top of its head and the camera crew _aw_s appropriately. 

Clint does not.

Oh god, it _is_ because he wants Steve to pay attention to him instead.


End file.
